


The Crowleiad

by PrincessDianaArtemis



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Does "Weird Things" With Tongue (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Curvy Aziraphale, Epic Love, F/M, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Spouses, Inn-Keeper Aziraphale, Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), Large Breasts, Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Married Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Nipple Licking, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Persistent Suitors, Snake-like Crowley (Good Omens), Soldier Crowley, Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), Strong Crowley (Good Omens), The Odyssey References, Thick Aziraphale, Thighs, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Trojan War, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessDianaArtemis/pseuds/PrincessDianaArtemis
Summary: On the island of Antikythera, where the people were far from copious, an angel waits to welcome her husband home from war.My contribution to Love and Lust Through the Ages Vol II (my first zine!).
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 98
Collections: Love and Lust Through the Ages Volume II, Top Crowley Library





	The Crowleiad

There is a lesser known story of the ancients. Of a love that rivaled Eros and Psyche, that would be married to the love-story of Penelope and her wayward Odysseus, that spoke of loyalty and dedication where other loves eroded and faded. It was a love that was star-crossed and eternal, of two beings whose love would be etched into the fabric of history.

-

The tale starts on the island of Antikythera where the people were far from copious, just those trying to find a place to rest after wandering farther than they’d like. 

Those that landed on this island spoke of the woman that would house them, feed them, nurse them back to health if needed. A woman with hair the color of clouds on a clear day, with eyes that changed with the weather, and with a smile that rivaled the brightness of Helios’s chariot.

Beautiful, plump, and friendly, the woman was thought to be an angelos or goddess and revered throughout this corner of the island.

Her name was Aziraphale.

A kind woman, though not a pushover, mysterious, and pursued by many suitors along the shoreline. The men - ranging from pushy older gentlemen claiming she was too vulnerable alone to younger men who wished for a pretty thing for their own - would shower her with gifts and smiles and commissioned words - but she turned them all down with a sweet smile. 

Every evening, Aziraphale would go to the shores and watch the horizon, her loose white curls ruffling with sea-winds and bare feet getting wet with the lapping of the sea. Those who had seen her would recall how heavenly she looked bathed in darkness and moonlight, her own light keeping her visible in the pitch of night. 

“Why do you go out there every night?” only the bravest, the drunkards, or children would ask after catching a glimpse of her.

Aziraphale would turn her soft smile on them, then turn softer, distant eyes towards the wide expanse of sea, “I’m waiting for my love to return.”

Many thought there was no love, just something she’d say to turn down pushy suitors. Others believed her beloved died in the war - many Greek soldiers had - and the suitors were sure to remind her of that every day.

“He’s coming,” Aziraphale answered, firm and with a smile that would make the heart of the men around her stutter. “I know he’s still out there, I can feel it. And he’s coming back to me. He always does.”

“How long has she been waiting?” one of the nosy women of the area asked, watching as the coveted woman wove piece after piece for her beloved. 

Another one, older and wiser, shook her head, “The ten years of the war, and two years since then - she’s sure her love will return.”

“Surely he’s in Poseidon’s grasp.”

“And yet she waits with such an open heart and patience,” the older woman said, a small smile on her wrinkled face. “We can’t fault her for loving.”

The rest of the women gave begrudging assertions and continued their chores while Aziraphale continued her own daily list of to-dos. 

Aziraphale, the mysterious woman of Antikythera, that waited endlessly for her love, busied herself with the inn and, at the end of the day, retreated down the wind-worn path and to her own house surrounded by verdant growth that protected the home from the persistent suitors. 

-

“Aziraphale, please, you’ve been holding us back for far too long,” one of the pushier suitors said, shouldering his way to the front. “Surely you have given up on that husband of yours. Choose one of us and you won’t have to work another day in your life.”

It was twelve years and three months since the beginning of Ilios’ war and Aziraphale was, as ever, surrounded by her ever present swarm of men.

“I  _ like  _ working, Pollux,” she said, fighting the eye-roll. “I own this inn. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste. Besides, I know he’s coming. I can sense him closer today than ever.”

The man looked like he wanted to continue his argument, but the high-pitched voice of one of the local children carried the cry of an approaching boat.

A zap of familiar magic, smokey and fragrant, brought Aziraphale’s gaze up. Her breath hitched when she saw the crest of red-hair from a distance as the boat breached land. 

“Crowley,” she exhaled and pushed out from between the men, taking off towards the shore as fast as the rocky path would let her. 

From behind, the suitors called after her, confused and frustrated, and followed her descent. They continued to question her, but she ignored them all, focusing her attention on the target before her.

The boat had barely settled against the sand when the breathy, excited voice of Aziraphale echoed and fell upon the lone sailor’s ears, gold eyes glancing up and brightening at the sight of a white-curled halo and the beaming smile that greeted his sea-tired eyes.

“ _ Angel _ .”

Crowley jumped off the boat, his smile widening at the bare-foot woman running towards him. 

“My dearest,” said Aziraphale, catching him off guard and barreling into him, knocking them both down into the sand. “Oh, my dear, Crowley. My  _ love _ . I missed you so much.”

She pressed kisses on every inch of skin she could reach - cheeks, chin, nose, jaw, neck - and in return he buried his nose in her curls and studied the crowd that had gathered around them through the strays.

“Up, my love,” he whispered into the wisps of her hair. “We have quite an audience and I would hate them getting more of an eyeful of either of us in this position.”

Aziraphale pouted, skimming her upturned nose against his jaw, “But it’s  _ warm _ . And they’re so irritating, dear. They’ve been trying to woo me - miserably, I might add.”

A hiss worked its way up Crowley’s throat and he wriggled out from under Aziraphale. He helped her up, corralling her against his side as he turned to the crowd who were waiting with confused and terrified expressions.

“Thank you sssso much for watching over my wife,” he said, tightening his grasp on her waist. “I’m sure the town has taken good care of her while I was away. But now, if you don’t mind, I have been away for far too long - and I missed my love dearly.” 

The crowd of men mumbled their apologies and assents, moving out of the way as Crowley led Aziraphale through the parting group. At the edge of the crowd were the women of the village who smiled warmly at their favorite innkeeper and her mysterious husband, both acknowledging them with a little nod.

“Well, angel,” said Crowley, leaning over to press a kiss amongst her curls, “what now?”

Those hazel eyes, warm and glowing with ethereal love, gazed up at him. She reached up and pulled his head down, giving him a kiss that he returned with equal fervor. 

When she was pushed away, she smiled and bit her reddened lips, “Take me to our bed, dearest.”

-

Crowley led Aziraphale down the pathway to the little home that they’d built for themselves a stone’s throw away from the inn that the angel had pouted for until he’d let her fix up to care for humans.

But this was  _ their  _ home.

Where they were free to be the spouses they’d agreed to be - away from Heaven and Hell, away from persistent suitors, and away from the capricious wars of humanity.

As she closed the door behind her, Aziraphale turned to her husband, pressing her back against the wood to get a good grip on him while on her tip-toes. 

“Are you hurt? You’ve been gone for so long, are you okay?” asked Aziraphale, raising soft hands to cup Crowley’s face and running her thumbs over the sharp, tanned cheekbones. “Do you need me - ”

He silenced her with a quick press of his lips to hers, pulling her closer by the hips, “I don’t need anything  _ other _ than you. I’ve missed my spouse.”

Aziraphale shivered, “You have me.”

Crowley chuckled, ducking down to run the sharp edges of his teeth down the column of her neck, “Not yet I haven’t.” 

The scoff from Aziraphale melted into a soft moan, knees wobbling as Crowley’s lips traveled further down onto her shoulders and towards the clasp holding her dress together. Her own hands found their way to the back of his hair, tugging at the short strands she found there.

“Love,” she said, voice hitching as one of the hands slipped off her hips and skimmed the curve of her ample rear. “My love, I said to  _ bed _ . I don’t want our celebration of your return to happen against our door. You made us such a lovely bed and it’d be a shame to not use it.”

His chuckle vibrated through her neck, “I don’t know, angel, I could have you once against this door and then once again in the comfort of our bed. Won’t you give me that pleasure? Or rather - won’t you let me give  _ you _ that pleasure, a present of my return?”

Aziraphale bit back a breathy whine and her head hit the door as Crowley hoisted her against the door. He pressed against her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he captured her mouth for a long and passionate kiss. The movement rucked the fabric of her chiton higher up her thick thighs until his fingers were cupping her ass. 

“May I take that as a ‘yes’, love?” asked Crowley and licked his lips, smiling when she nodded and pulled him closer. “Good. You’re gonna need to hold onto something. I’d love to get crushed between your thighs - ” he stopped as said appendages squeezed him, “ - but not before I can lay you out like you deserve. Understand, dove?”

She whimpered, nails biting at his shoulders, “Yes, but for  _ someone’s  _ sake, please get on with it.”

As he hitched her higher against the wall, he laughed and hooked her legs over his shoulders, “Such a  _ fussy _ little thing, aren’t you? Let’s get that edge off you.”

Without waiting for another answering sound from above him, Crowley buried his face between Aziraphale’s creamy thighs, humming interestedly at the pink, wet folds before giving a hearty lick from perineum to clit that had the angel quivering above her. He lapped at the leaking pleasure until it dribbled down his chin. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” cried Aziraphale, thighs squeezing his ears as his forked tongue wrapped around her most sensitive spot, “Oh,  _ Crowley _ . Yes, there,  _ please _ , darling”

Crowley gave a little hum that vibrated through her cunt and pulled a full-bodied quiver through her body which had him turning his attentions towards getting more of that - nose pressing relentlessly against her clit, tongue diving deeper, until Aziraphale came with a head-thumping whine against the door.

With a light toss up, Crowley repositioned Aziraphale’s limp body so he could straighten up and face her with lips and chin glistening with her slick. He unfurled his tongue, longer in its serpentine form, and lapped up the stray juices while his angel caught her breath.

“Good?” asked Crowley, satisfied glint in his eyes as he released her to stand on shaky legs. Behind her, he could see the indents that angelic strength left on the door.

“You  _ fiend,”  _ she replied, though the blown pupils and hand wandering down from Crowley’s belt towards the hem of his tunic told a different story. “Honestly, these are indecently short.”

To prove her point, she snuck her hand underneath the fabric to give his already interested Effort a light squeeze. 

He gave a laugh, pressing his forehead against hers, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, dove, I promised you our bed, right?”

With a snap of his fingers, the two of them fell upon their marital bed.

The rumors of Odysseus and how he’d built his marital bed from the tree that grew in the middle of his and Penelope’s bedroom had become something of a romantic fantasy for many around the islands - but it was just a rumor and Crowley knew he was cleverer than that.

No, Crowley, seeing the wistful expression on Aziraphale’s face when she’d heard about Penelope’s gift, had made something greater and built a garden in their bedroom - an apple tree scared into growing into the perfect shape for two supernatural beings to make their vows. 

As Aziraphale sat against the pillows stuffed with angel (and demon) down, she could see the canopy of plants grown with dedication and trimmed with their love. Meanwhile,  _ her _ love bent down to take her lips again while his wandering fingers traveled to her shoulders and undid the clasp of her chiton which cascaded down her shoulders leaving her exposed.

“You’re so gorgeous, angel,” Crowley said between the kisses that led him back down her neck and to her shoulders. “Radiant and all mine.”

Her breaths stuttered as his wicked tongue wrapped around a nipple and lathed it in attention. Crowley straddled her, scooting her back until he was on top of her, one hand working the fabric off her while the other fondled the breast that wasn’t in his mouth. And, as he busied his mouth alternating from one hardened nipple to the other, Aziraphale wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close enough to feel his still-clothed cock rubbing against her already sensitive and wet cunt.

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale, rolling her hips against his, “ _ oh _ , please, darling, I need to feel you inside me.”

He answered with a hiss of a laugh and continued his ministrations, lapping between her breasts and down towards the glorious rolls of her stomach. With an impatient huff and a snap of her fingers, Crowley found himself blessedly naked and dripping against the already sticky skin of her thighs. Aziraphale sighed as she locked her heels around his waist. 

“My, l- _ oh-ve  _ if you don’t get a wiggle on, I will not be responsible for my actions,” she said, threat lessened by the high-pitched whine that slipped out of her mouth. “Please, love, for me- _ ee _ .”

“So  _ fussy _ and demanding for someone pinned underneath a demon,” said Crowley, leaning up to devour her mouth, tongue busying itself tracing every tooth as his hands massaged the thickness of her middle and traveled lower. “Patience, my sweet angel.”

Crowley kissed the pout off her lips and swallowed the gasp that spilled from Aziraphale’s lips when his long fingers stroked her folds and slipped in with ease from the wetness. A shuddering sigh jiggled her body as his fingers started their work.

“Lazy hedonist,” he chuckled, taking in her luxuriant body. “So wet and soft and  _ needy _ . Are you ready, love? Are you ready to welcome your husband home?”

“Oh, yes.”

Lips met as his miraculously slicked cock slid in, slowly pushing in to the sound of Aziraphale’s heavy moans until Crowley was fully inside her. And, for the first time in their love-making, Crowley’s lips parted with a grunt.

He hunched over her, catching his breath until he felt her clenching around him and began a steady pace into her dripping plushness to the sound of their mingling moans, kissing the exposed neck at his disposal.

As Aziraphale’s thick legs wrapped around his hips and pulled him deep inside her, Crowley’s pace quickened.

“Crowley,” she whined, desperately clawing at the wiry muscles of his freckled back and meeting every snap of his hips with a roll of hers. “Please, I need more.”

His hips stuttered in their rhythm, seeking release, fingers coming down to circle around Aziraphale’s neglected clit which she thanked with a loud moan. A deep, reverberating groan vibrated through the angel and down to their apple tree bed, and Crowley came, keeping his steady pace thrusting and pressing on the swollen nub until Aziraphale followed him over the edge.

With a sigh, Crowley pulled out, mingling fluids dripping onto the bed, and he snaked his way up her body. He pressed a kiss on her forehead before gently melding their lips together in a soft, passionate kiss.

“Oh, love, that was - well, that was  _ heavenly _ ,” Aziraphale said. “Could you - ” 

Crowley kissed her again, “Of course, my love.”

He snapped away the mess and pulled the blanket up around them, opening his arms so Aziraphale could snuggle up against him. She wrapped her legs around one of his, hand settling against his slowing heartbeat and pressed a kiss against his neck.

“I’m glad you’re back, my dear. I did miss you so,” said Aziraphale. “Tell me  _ all _ about your adventures, about your rugged warrior life, and how, for the life of you, you got so tan.” 

A low chuckle built in Crowley’s chest as he tightened his grip on his spouse, “I missed you too, angel, so much. And you won’t believe the incredible things I saw - humans are something else.”

Wrapped in each other and pressing kisses to each other every now and then, a pair of spouses, an angel and a demon, caught each other up on the adventures of their past years and basked in the aura of their love.


End file.
